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Message: <blockquote data-quote="spyscribe" data-source="post: 2453203" data-attributes="member: 5808">Part the One-Hundred Forty-FirstWelcome to the Empire of EbisPetros’ tower appears in a desolate stretch of sand.  Although by Reyu’s estimation they are only half a day’s walk away from Siunethrit, the city is visible only as a tiny smudge on the horizon.  This is ideal from the standpoint of not alarming the populace, but not so great for those who have to make the trek to Siunethrit on foot.They arrive in early afternoon, and even though the party takes the time to make their good-byes to Petros, the sun is still high in the sky as they set out across the shifting sands.It is hot.Kiara tries to escape the heat by shifting into swallow form and riding in the shade of Annika’s hood, but she quickly discovers that this is no climate for swallows.(“African or European?”)She gives up and trudges along with the rest of them.  Fortunately for the party, Thatch still carries the decanter of endless water and are able to take frequent breaks to drink and douse their heads.  Euro, who rides in Lira’s pack out of the sun, finds that he can slip into the pitcher for a quick dip whenever he gets too hot.  Thatch thinks about objecting on the ground that they all have to drink from it, then realizes it’s not as if he doesn’t have the resources to wash it out after Euro is done.Lira makes her new hat of disguise appear to have a wide brim, and walks in her own patch of illusory shade.  It actually seems to help a little… provided she doesn’t think about it too much.Eventually, the party reaches the main road, and—with Gemil stored safely in Anvil’s pack—they reach the high sandstone walls of Siunethrit just as the sun is dipping below the horizon.Now, they will find out how good the forged passports they bought were.Arriving at the main gates, the party is quickly ushered to Customs, built inside the massive walls surrounding the city.  The room is long and narrow, and filled with rows upon rows of desks.  At this hour, most of the officials who would have been manning those desks seem to have gone home, but they are able to get the attention of someone still on duty.To the travelers’ eyes, he is dressed very strangely.  He wears a light linen skirt and tunic, along with sandals—which make sense given the desert climate.  However, he is also heavily made-up with dark liner around his eyes and a long and pointed false wooden beard strapped to his chin.  The adventurers do their best not to stare, and he returns the favor.“Why are you traveling to Siunethrit?”“Business.”“How long will you be staying here?”“A couple of days.”He takes a cursory glance at their passports then waves them through a door in the wall opposite the one where they entered.  And with that, the party has arrived in Siunethrit.  Eva breathes a silent sigh of relief.Twilight lingers over the city, and the streets are filled with people hurrying about their business.  The party cannot help but notice that there are also soldiers stationed on almost every corner, keeping an eye on the ebb and flow of the populace.  With their fair complexions and strange garb, the party gets more than a few looks from the military and civilians alike.  Even the architecture is foreign.  Almost every building is made of the same pale sandstone, with irregular angles and oddly sloping ceilings.  Several have no visible means of supporting themselves other than counterweights.  Geometric minarets of every conceivable configuration dominate the skyline; obelisks topped by pyramids, cubes, and other stranger and harder to describe objects rise like angular flowers in a garden of boxes.  Still, the overall effect is more… precise than aesthetic.The party finds a place to spend the night, and once they are safely ensconced in a private room, Anvil brings Gemil out of his sack.“Alright,” Lira informs Gemil.  “We’re in Siunethrit.  What now?”Gemil clacks his teeth together happily, clearly pleased to be back in his home city for the first time in nearly two decades.  “Go to an inn called The Golden Ratio; I’ll give you directions.  A man named Raffee is the innkeeper.  When you find him, ask to see Khalid.  He’ll know what to do from there.”Seeing no reason to dally over this mission, the party sets out immediately, following Gemil’s directions to The Golden Ratio.However, when they arrive, they encounter a slight difficulty.“I’m sorry,” says the man behind the bar, “I don’t know any Raffee.”“You are not he?” Anvil demands.“No.” He shakes his head. “Do you know anyone by the name of Khalid?”“Sorry.”The party quickly returns to their own rooms to consult with Gemil.Gemil considers.  “Well… that’s very interesting.”“What are we supposed to do now?” Eva asks him, growing more impatient with this little errand by the moment.“Don’t get yourself all up into a fuss.  It’s not a problem.  I have another contact.  A man who owns a tailor shop.  We can go find him in the morning.”“Fine.”  Eva spits the word like a mouthful of sand.  She turns to Thatch, “Quick hand of cards downstairs?”Thatch shrugs agreeably.  “Sure.”Eva and Thatch don’t find any card games going downstairs, so they sit down for a quick round or so of two-handed gin.  The only other patrons in the common room are two men at a back table, heads bent over a very intense discussion.As the evening wears on, their conversation grows louder and more animated, until finally breaking out into a loud and passionate debate.  Eva keeps an ear on it—prepared to break up the game at a moment’s notice if things look like they’re going to get ugly.  Although she has no idea what the specific point of contention is, it gradually dawns on her that these men are arguing about math.She looks over at Thatch and whispers low across the table.  “This city is so weird.”Thatch nods, mute.</blockquote>

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